Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Belgium and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eden Ahbez to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
The Pop Group,
Dark Day,
The Mighty Diamonds,
K-Klass,
New Order,
Alphaville,
Television Personalities,
Porter Ricks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scrapy,
Joy Division,
Funkadelic,
Cameo,
Grauzone,
Suicide,
AZ,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Connie Case,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Max Romeo,
Kenny Larkin,
Hashim,
The Fugs,
The Moody Blues,
Motorama,
Ten City,
Marine Girls,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wasted Youth,
John Lydon,
Sugar Minott,
Black Pus,
Lindisfarne,
Toni Rubio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Danielle Patucci,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ohio Players,
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
kango's stein massive,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scion,
Bobby Sherman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.